The CEO's Contractual Wife (Olivia and Alexander) novel Chapter 227

Chapter 227

OLIVEI

The site visit took another two hours. Dylan and I walked every floor, photographing spaces, taking notes, and occasionally. stopping to speak with staff members about their experiences with guests.

By the time we finished, my feet ached, and my mind buzzed with ideas.

“That was productive,” Dylan said as we stepped outside into the late afternoon sun. The Beverly Hills street hummed with expensive cars and designer shopping bags.

I checked my phone. 4:47 PM.

“Very productive.” I scrolled through the photos we’d taken. “These will be perfect.”

Dylan’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, his expression shifting. “Actually, Mrs. Carter, I hate to bail on you, but I just got pulled into another project. Michelle needs me to review some materials before tomorrow morning.”

“No problem,” I said, waving him off. “I’ll head back to the office and start organizing these photos.”

“You sure? I can push back if you need me.”

“Dylan, go. I can handle uploading photos on my own.”

He looked relieved. “You’re the best. See you tomorrow?”

“Bright and early for the meeting.”

A cab pulled up almost immediately when Dylan raised his hand. He climbed in, offering a final wave through the window as the car merged into traffic.

My heels clicked against the pavement as I rounded the building. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the street, painting everything in shades of amber and gold.

Then I saw him.

Ryan.

He stood near a delivery truck about half a block away, partially obscured but unmistakably him.

Our eyes met for a split second before he suddenly turned and walked in the opposite direction, disappearing around the corner with quick, jerky movements.

What the hell?

My heart hammered against my ribs. Had he been waiting for me? Following me?

Without thinking, I started walking in the direction he’d gone. My heels slowed me down, but I kept my eyes fixed on the corner where he’d vanished.

The street stretched empty in both directions, just typical LA afternoon traffic and pedestrians going about their business. A woman walked her dog. A delivery guy unloaded boxes from a truck. A couple argued outside a coffee shop.

No Ryan.

I turned slowly, scanning every doorway, every alley entrance, every parked car. How had he disappeared so quickly? The street wasn’t that long, and I’d only been seconds behind him.

17:42 Fri, Dec 19

Cimper 297

Achill crawled up my spine despite the warth afterwar

Ma’am? Your okay!

I jumped, whirling around to food an elderly man with a grocery bag watching me with concer

Did you see a guy come this way? Brown jacket, about six feet tall

The man shook his head slowly. Just saw you standing here looking lost. You need help finding wir thing

“No, I’m fine. Thank you.”

He nodded and continued on his way, leaving me standing on the corner feeling like an idiot. Or crazy. Or both

I pulled out my phone, thumb hovering over Alexander’s name in my contacts. Should I call him? Tell him I thought Ryan was following me? But what if I was wrong? What if it was just a coincidence that Ryan happened to be in Beverly Hills near the Thompson Hotel at the exact time I was doing a site visit?

My finger hovered there for another moment before I lowered the phone. Alexander’s security team had probably already clocked Ryan if he was actually following me. Or maybe they hadn’t seen anything suspicious at all, which meant I was being paranoid.

I shoved my phone back into my purse and started walking toward where I’d parked my Porsche, scanning the street one more time. No Ryan. Just regular LA afternoon traffic and pedestrians going about their business.

A sleek black BMW pulled up beside me, the tinted window rolling down to reveal James Westbrook behind the wheel

“Need a ride?” he asked with that familiar, easy smile.

I gestured ahead. “My car’s right there, actually.”

“Ah.” He glanced at the Porsche. “Nice ride.”

I smiled, already moving past his car.

James shifted into park, apparently not done with the conversation. “Hey, I know this is forward, but would you be interested in grabbing coffee? There’s a place around the corner that makes a killer espresso.”

I paused, considering. After the weird encounter with Ryan, coffee actually sounded perfect. And James had been nothing but professional during our previous interactions.

“Sure,” I found myself saying. “Coffee sounds good.”

“Great.” James’s face lit up. “Follow me? It’s just two blocks over.”

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